Insight

Mar 24, 2008 22:47

Some people go into science because it comes easiest to them. Other people go into science simply because they love science. As surprising as this may sound to people who know me well, for most of my life I've been part of the former category. I'm not tooting my own horn; I now simply accept it as a fact that I'm far better with math and science than with the humanities. In high school, this manifested itself in the form of me taking the highest level math and science classes that North Hollywood offered, and joining both Science Bowl and Science Olympiad. To be honest, even those classes, and much of the monotony and rote memorization of Bowl and Oly, often did not engage me nearly as much as I would have hoped.

So, you ask, have things changed at all in the past semester and a half?

While I do sometimes have to search deep within myself to find the motivation to attend lecture, I've found that I'm almost never disappointed with what each class has to offer. It really boils down to how I'm learning the material; whereas in high school, most of the material was simply lore that teachers threw at us in hopes that we would remember all of it, the things I'm learning now actually get me to wonder about the core principles of how things work. That sounds very vague and generic, but it's true. Why do two atoms come together and form a covalent bond? Before, I would have said that they "want" to share their electrons; now, I can visualize the entire process as a matter of mathematically-derived orbitals and quantized energy levels. Granted, that doesn't mean much to someone who has no background in the subject, but it makes a huge difference for me. Why does electromagnetic radiation propagate through space at the speed of light? Before, I would have said, "It just does." Now, I can work out the governing equations behind both electric and magnetic fields and realize for myself that those fields do and must travel at the speed of light.

At the same time, digging deeper into these fields and discovering the very fundamentals of the universe often leaves me even more in wonder. How can the human body, with its many many proteins, enzymes, and biochemical processes, be so complex that scientists have trouble decoding even the most basic of the proteins? Why is it that Gauss's Theorem and Stokes' Theorem, seemingly completely abstract concepts from multivariable calculus, can describe the physical reality of electromagnetic fields? Why are there "fundamental" particles, and why do they happen to interact in the way they do? Perhaps most perplexing of all, why are human beings able to even think about, much less comprehend, science?

My point is not that taking college science classes has just made me more confused. It's that, by exploring these subjects at a depth I never knew was possible for me, I'm beginning to realize that the truly important questions are the ones that no class will ever completely answer. They're the questions that, when contemplated, reveal that the workings of the universe are beautiful, perfect, and paradoxically both intricate and accessible. It's almost overwhelming to be out walking along the sidewalk and to realize that if the laws of physics were just slightly altered, nothing I see or experience would exist. For me, the fact that I am here and that I can think about all this is a strong indication that everything that exists has a purpose. We live and strive toward an often unconscious objective that is greater than anything anyone could ever imagine.

What do you guys think?
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